


The war changed everything

by Jael73



Category: Downton Abbey, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-21 15:33:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7393213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jael73/pseuds/Jael73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sir Anthony Strallan has long been groomed to take the place of Britain's greatest protector, Mycroft Holmes. He is also Edith Crawley's only hope for true love and a chance to be her own woman. But will the Great War destroy everyone's hopes? A love story and a mystery amidst great tragedy. Ignores Bertie and fixes the ridiculous scene between Strallan and Mary at the end of season 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is also posted, though with slightly different edits, on Fanfiction.com. That site makes a search difference between crossovers and otherwise, so I wasn't getting many reviews. Please tell me what you think!

“Some old bore, she said. I guess he was going to propose,” Lady Mary Crawley said with a small laugh.

Sir Anthony Strallan was no fool. He had cultivated the ability to put patterns together from seemingly inconsequential details over decades of being on the outside looking in. Being somewhat awkward had not helped his social life much, but it had helped Britain numerous times.

So when he heard Lady Mary’s reason for not being able to find Lady Edith at the garden party, though his first reaction was acute embarrassment, he stopped, let out a breath he had choked in, and let his head do the thinking instead of his heart.

The details flashed in his mind, clicking into place like a jigsaw puzzle. The snippets of conversation he had overheard, the looks between the sisters, the odd things Edith had said about herself and her family. His urge to run faded, as if he had stepped out of a badly written script for a very melodramatic play.

“I believe, Lady Edith, that I am the “old bore,” he said gently, with a small smile as to let her off the hook. It was all so clear, now. Lady Mary was very much a petulant child who had been indulged all of her life. She was simultaneously scornful and jealous of Edith, or of anyone that received attention other than herself. He had given her his attention once, when it was clear he had been invited as a possible suitor. Aristocracy had its certain customs and parts to play, of course.

But as all of this flashed through his mind, he spied Edith over Mary’s shoulder in the distance. He knew she would never say any such thing. Even if she did not wish to accept him, he knew she would be kind about it.

He left Mary with her mouth slightly open, speechless, as he took off his hat to Lady Edith coming forward. She had a slightly worried smile on her face, seeing him next to Mary.  
“Hello!” she said brightly. She was trying to learn how not to be forward. She had never received any type of attention from a man, and hoped she didn’t come off as needy.  
“Hello!” he returned, with his own charming smile. Edith loved his smile. “I was hoping to see you.”

“That’s very nice, so few people do,” Edith said, with a small laugh, looking at her hands.

He was sure of his assessment now. Lady Mary had been allowed to bully this lovely creature for far too long.

“I thought we might take a walk beside the lake, if that would agree with you?” He asked, offering her his arm, a little concern showing in his bright blue eyes. He really did not want to ask his question in the middle of the party.

“Yes, that would be lovely,” Edith answered, slipping her arm into his. She refused to look back at Mary, who was fuming.

“It would seem I have not thought through some things,” Anthony mused as the strolled on the outskirts of the party. The peace of the water, the smell of summer in the air, gave Edith quite the impression it was just the two of them in the entire world.

“What do you mean?” she asked gently, somehow no longer afraid. It seemed so natural to walk with this man.

“Lady Gervis, at dinner, said she thought us a wonderful pair,” Anthony smiled at the memory of that night. “But what I had not considered was that there would be others who might not agree.”

“Did Mary say something horrible to you?” Edith asked, stopping him. “If she did, it was only to spite me. That’s always been our relationship. Though, to be fair,” at this Edith looked down at the grass in shame, “I have been horrible as well, on occasion.”

“I am starting to understand you more, my dear,” he said, gently pushing up her chin with a finger to look at him. His eyes were more serious now, but she saw only acceptance there, not judgement. “And I hope you have also thought through being seen with me. I am a bit older –“

“Age is only one factor … in a relationship,” Edith nearly whispered, a slight warmth coming to her cheeks. She had thought this through many times, worried that he would use it as an excuse to no longer see her, but it was still a little embarrassing to talk about such things. “I have been invisible my entire life. You are the only one that have ever listened to my words, my… feelings,” and now she blushed red, feeling very forward, indeed.

Hesitantly, he cupped her cheek with his hand. Just touching her silky skin made it difficult to breathe. She stirred feelings with him he had thought long dead.

Edith closed her eyes at the touch. Crawleys didn’t touch each other, they formally hugged and kissed. It was so easy to fall for this man, and she so wanted to be worthy of him.  
Internally, though, Anthony was seething. Angry at the Crawly family for ignoring this ravishing, intelligent and kind woman to the point that she would find the attentions of a lonely widower pleasant. But he knew he could not give her up, now.

“Then, if you’re sure, I would be bold enough to ask for your hand in marriage,” Anthony said softly, gazing into the depths of her warm, chocolate eyes.

Edith stared at him for several seconds. She actually had to convince herself that she had heard him correctly. Her whole body flushed as she nearly screamed, “Yes, oh yes!” and flung herself into his arms.

Several of those that happened to be closest to the happy couple turned their heads at Lady Edith’s cry, and saw the embrace. Sir Anthony was well aware of the attention, and after setting her down, he took her hand with a smile as bright as day, blues eyes twinkling with happiness, and said, “We should go tell your father before the guests do.” She smiled grandly back, and they walked hand in hand, as a couple in love, to the middle of the garden party.

Lord and Lady Grantham watched them walk towards the main tent. Cora had told Robert what would probably occur, and he was glad. Maybe he had thought Strallan a bit dull, but he had seen how Edith had blossomed under his attention in the last few months. He was a gentleman, and would know how to treat his middle daughter well.

Handshakes were made all around, with Cora kissing Anthony on the cheek. The celebratory atmosphere, however, was interrupted by a telegram. Robert ripped it open, annoyed at the distraction. But his eyes told Anthony the news. Anthony knew it would happen soon.

“We’re at war with Germany,” Robert said. Everyone froze, though you could hear the news being spread.

Edith gripped Anthony’s arm and looked into his eyes. What would this mean for everyone… for them?

EAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEA

He had come to Downton as soon as he had read the telegram delivered to Locksleigh.

“I’ve had some concerning news regarding the war,” Sir Anthony started as soon as Thomas showed him into the drawing room, where Lord and Lady Grantham, Lady Mary, and Lady Edith were discussing the same topic. It had only been two days since the garden party, where Lord Grantham had received the telegram about the start of the war with Germany.

It was quite clear to everyone present, however, that Sir Anthony’s news was mostly meant for Lady Edith. Anthony’s eyes had sought hers out as soon as he had entered the room, and he was having a difficult time acknowledging Lord Grantham properly. She was gorgeous, as always, but it hit Strallan quite forcefully as he looked at her – she would soon be his.

“What’s happened, Str- Anthony?” Lord Grantham asked. The engagement was still new, after all, and Robert had yet to get used to Anthony’s place in their family. Anthony ripped his eyes from Edith and looked at Robert distractedly.

“I believe you’re aware that I have served the government for some time in a role that’s probably best described as…advisory, concerning Germany and Austria,” Anthony explained carefully.

“Yes, of course, you mentioned having gone there just recently,” Edith said, concern in her eyes. Anthony found himself nearly drowning in them. No one had shown concern for him personally in many years, or bothered to remember details of his conversations.

“Yes. But what I did not mention is that I am considered… somewhat an expert on….certain aspects of Germanic culture. I actually hold a barony in Northern Germany, if you recall,” looking back at Lord Grantham.

“I thought you were only a Baronet?” Mary asked sharply. Edith pressed her lips together in annoyance. Of course that would be the point Mary would be interested in.

“In England, yes. I’ve never made much of the title here.” His piercing blue eyes looked over to Edith, and she saw amusement in them. She smiled back brilliantly, in a moment completely understanding the petulant child he saw Mary as. It nearly brought tears to her eyes, the realization that Mary had no power over her anymore.

“Are the Germans giving you trouble over that? Could it be taken from you?” Lord Grantham asked.

“It’s early yet to tell how this will affect landholders in both countries, but I am in a position of trust here, so they are sending me abroad. They want to smuggle me into Germany.”

The room gave a collective gasp. “Won’t that be dangerous?” Edith asked.

“I have cultivated many contacts in Germany over the years. Those contacts need to be… assessed,” he said, somewhat vaguely. “I hopefully won’t be gone much more than a few weeks, though I am being drafted as a Major, mostly likely for as long as the war lasts.” Robert looked at him sharply. Major, in the British armed forces, was quite the promotion for a simple adviser....

But Robert never got the chance to ask about it, as the next sentence shocked everyone even more. “I leave tomorrow.”

Edith blanched, speechless. Cora spoke for her, saying, “I’m sure it will turn out well, Anthony. We can start wedding plans as soon as you return.” Edith looked over to her mother in gratitude, and then turned back to Anthony.

“Can you at least stay for dinner?” Edith asked, a slight quiver in her voice. She had had so little time with this man. She had thought there would be ages to get to know him at a deeper level before their wedding. Edith mentally ridiculed herself. As if anything would go right for you. She squashed the voice before it said anything else mean.

“If you’ll have me,” Anthony nodded at Edith, and then looked at Lady Grantham for confirmation.

“Of course.”

“Then I shall return at six more properly attired.” He nodded to Lord Grantham, gave Edith one last look, and exited. Edith followed him with her eyes, and then turned to her mother.

“Well, who knew Sir Anthony was so well placed?” Mary said. Everyone knew it was meant snidely.

“Mary, you really need to hold your tongue from now on. This is war. I won’t have Anthony spoken of like that,” Lord Grantham rebuked his oldest daughter. Mary’s mouth opened to say something in retort, but saw the look in her father’s eyes.

“Edith will need a little time alone with Anthony after dinner, Robert,” Core said softly, changing the subject deftly. Edith had always admired her mother’s social grace.

“Of course. I trust you both, though we will need to make a more formal announcement of your engagement, tomorrow even, even if it was somewhat public,” he said to Edith. She knew he was only being concerned for her reputation, but Edith was thrilled and nervous at the same time. She hadn’t been alone with Anthony since before he had proposed.

Anthony’s valet, Davis, had finished packing a small bag of essentials by the time he returned to Locksleigh. His tails, however, were freshly pressed and waiting for him. Davis had been with him for many years, and knew his master well. He had come on just before Maud had died in a riding accident six years ago. The entire house staff was elated when their master had proposed to Lady Edith. They were fiercely loyal to this man that was so quiet and gentle, yet had had so much heartbreak.

Anthony didn’t go up directly to dress, however. There was something he needed to do before leaving in the morning. He sat at his writing desk, and composed a telegram to his solicitor in London. He had asked for time to stop there tomorrow, and wanted Higgins to have everything ready for him to sign.

\---

Dinner was only slightly awkward, as Sir Anthony had not yet dined with them as a soon-to-be family member. Mary behaved herself, for once, seemingly having learnt it was no longer acceptable to disparage Edith or her suitor. She was still somewhat miffed that she hadn’t known the full extent of his wealth and peerage, and mystified as to what he saw in Edith at all. So she watched. If nothing else, Mary always wanted to be “in the know”.

Sir A- _Just Anthony ___, Mary reminded herself, kept the conversation far away from the war. He spoke more about the modernization in agriculture, and what he had been doing at Locksleigh. Edith was actually interested in equipment –tractors, harvesters, planters, etc. That didn‘t surprise Mary a bit, remembering how Edith was always fascinated with things that moved on their own as a child.

No, what surprised Mary was that she had actually started to understand the logistics and importance of what Anthony was doing with his estate. She had never felt compelled to “do” something with her life, but Downton was extremely important to her.

“Anthony,” Mary began when there was a lull in conversation, “Would you be able to estimate how much more profitable Locksleigh is now, after all of these improvements? Is it really worth the effort, especially on a larger estate, Downton, for example?”

Edith shot daggers at her sister for the implication that Locksleigh was nothing compared to Downton. But Anthony saw the question differently. Maybe Mary wasn’t interested in the fine details of harvesters, but the question was more in line with the interests of an estate agent. Anthony paused, clearly thinking over his answer.

“It’s actually a very good question. Larger estates would have to invest more, and therefore wouldn’t see the return of profit as soon. But it is my understanding that of the larger estates that have already modernized their farming and livestock assets, increased revenue simply does not materialize fast enough if an estate tries to “ease into it”, as they say. It really is, quite, an “all or nothing” venture.”

“That’s…illuminating,” she said, as she looked over to Papa. Perhaps Anthony would be an asset to the family, after all….

The ladies went through, and Robert waved to Carson to offer Anthony a cigar. Anthony took it, though he didn’t smoke often, as a sign of acceptance.

“Edith does have a dowry, of course,” Robert began. Anthony knew this conversation would have to occur, though he was not at all interested in her money. “Though I would appreciate some consideration to be made on allowing Edith access to at least a portion of it. My own father entailed all of Cora’s money to the estate, which had created quite the pickle.”

“I completely understand and agree. My own estate is not entailed, though the title would die with me if I have no direct heir, as baronetcy’s do, of course. I would agree to Edith keeping possession of the entirety of her dowry.”

Robert looked surprised. “Locksleigh does that well?”

Anthony managed not to smile with pride. “Yes. Modernization is a good thing for these old estates, Robert.”

Robert leaned backwards in thought.

“We should call it an early night,” Cora said as everyone finished an after dinner drink. Robert nodded. “Please take care of yourself, Anthony, and I’m sure we will see you soon. Edith, please ring Carson if you need anything,” making it clear his approval for Anthony to be alone with Edith.

“Thank you Robert,” he said as they shook hands, but quickly turning to Edith. Everyone else filed out of the room. They were finally alone.

Edith gestured at the seat next to her. “Would you like to sit down?” her voice wavered nervously.

“Yes, thank you,” he said. They sat next to each other for a few minutes, unsure of themselves and their relationship.

“An odd start, wouldn’t you agree?” Anthony said, looking at her with a smile on his lips.

Edith relaxed with a soft chuckle. She saw right through the joke, as the smile didn’t reach his eyes to make them sparkle.

“Yes, quite. Though it doesn’t surprise me, my life has yet to go anywheres near normal,” she said, with a sad smile of her own. Anthony knew there was a story there, but there would be time to learn more of each other.

“I feel the need to tell you something, before I go,” Anthony looked down at his hands. Edith held her tongue, understanding more about this man by the minute. He was a man of few words by breeding, by kindness and by being more interested in others than himself, but also in a… hesitancy of knowing the right words. They were very much, two of a kind.

“I-“ he paused, sighed, and started again, “I have never been able to easily express myself. To be honest, I was actually quite surprised I was able to get out my proposal without making a fool of myself,” he looked at her with a self-depreciating smile. Edith touched his arm in a way that she hoped was comforting. She hadn’t really touched him yet, much less any man since being out of the nursery. The feel of his muscle beneath his jacket was… erotic.

“I have 38 years of mistakes, secrets, and habits that - there are many such things you should know about me - but I would like to be clear. My feelings for you, are – genuine,” he said the last sentence quickly, certain he was going to completely cock this up. Edith smiled, and his worries seemed to melt away.

“Thank you. I sometimes feel – a little pushy, as if I goaded you in an unladylike way into –“

“Not in the least. I am simply a bit surprised that you accepted. I never thought I have anything lovely in my life again, after Maud….” He paused, quickly uncomfortable where he had taken the conversation.

Edith stopped him. “You needn’t talk about it now. There’s quite a lot I would like to explain to you, about myself, my family… But we needn’t do it now.” She let out a breath. “But what I do need to say now is… I love you, Anthony Strallan.”

“Edith Crawley, I very much love you, too.” He hadn’t been certain that this was love until that moment at the lake. He held up his hand to her cheek, touching her soft skin again. It was a gesture he would love to able to repeat for years to come.

He had meant to tell her so much more, about his work, about his true place in the government. But now, as he stared at her lips, it was not the right time.

“May I kiss you?” he whispered. Edith heart raced, her eyes wide and bright. She nodded.

He leaned forward slowly, brushing his lips to hers. Edith sat straight, almost stiff with not knowing how to respond. But her already parted lips, in trying to catch her breath, allowed him a small taste.

Anthony had to restrain himself from groaning with desire. The most experienced woman in Paris couldn’t have any softer lips, or taste so divine. He gently titled his head with his hand, to better explore her delicious lips. A wave of pleasure over road any self-consciousness Edith had, as she parted her lips, allowing his tongue access.

Her body felt like melting pool of… she had no idea, didn’t want to think, only wanted this feeling to never, ever, end.

Anthony nearly lost all sense of propriety, exploring her mouth with is tongue, tasting her thoroughly, it was heaven….

And then he pulled back gently, trying hard to control himself. Edith’s eyes were still closed, her lips parted, panting slightly, with her hands making their way to his arms of their own volition. He couldn’t help grinning like a fool. It might be unfair to compare this moment with Maud, but it couldn’t be helped. Maud had always been so restrained, so _Victorian ___even in their most private moments… Anthony was nearly giddy at the idea that he could actually _excite ___a woman, no matter her inexperience, or his age.

Edith opened her eyes slowly, obviously still deeply affected. “Is it always like that?” she asked innocently.

“I don’t know what it is like for others, but I hope it will be for us,” he said truthfully. He leaned forward again and kissed her gently on her brow. “I should probably go, I have to catch the early train to London.”

“Of course,” she said, a little shakily, both from that earth-shattering kiss and from knowing he was going into danger. She rang Carson to have Anthony’s car brought around, and walked with him outside.

Carson walked up to her, his eyes soft. “I believe you forgot this, my lady,” he said gently. “Oh, I did,” she said, looking at the photo he handed to her, and then blushed at the memory of why she had been distracted.

She looked at him gratefully. “Thank you, Carson.” They had never been the friends that he and Lady Mary were, but in that moment, he knew how much she appreciated him.

“I had wanted to give you this,” she turned to Anthony. Carson walked back into the house to give them privacy. It was a picture of her, taken only a few years before. “I thought…”

“It is lovely, though not as lovely as the original,” he said truthfully. “I will carry it with me, until I return.”

And with his eyes bright with emotion, he got into his Rolls Royce and drove off. Edith clutched at her shawl. She was fearful. She had never been this happy.


	2. Chapter 2

To casual onlooker, the elderly gentleman reading the newspaper in this very well-established club was one of the ubiquitous landed gentry: well bred, silver spoon, a typical “gentleman farmer.”

And that was exactly what Mycroft Holmes wanted you to see.

If you looked closer, and truly _observed ___, you could tell that this thin man had once been quite large: the lose skin, drooping eyes, and thick lips. You would see that he wore a wedding ring, yet the Diogenes Club catered to single men. You would note that he was reading the entire paper; every line, every word was being cataloged. And you would see the thick stack of English, French, German, and Russian papers next to him that had clearly already been read.

It was 1914. The Great War had started, the one that he and his brother had always known was coming. He had discussed it at length with Sherlock before he had died; they both agreed it would start in the East and spread West: the East had been neglected for hundreds of years. Mycroft could only try to prepare Britain for the worst, but the world was changing faster than he could observe from his comfortable chair.

Oh how he missed his brother!

At 83, he had guided Britain through many conflicts, subverting one disaster after another. He had won his bet with Sherlock over the timing of his death many times over. But 83 was extremely uncomfortable. Goodness, 70 had been extremely uncomfortable, for someone who had been heavy nearly his entire life. But he was stubborn. He would not leave Britain without finding another protector, someone to take his place in collecting the information needed to foresee the unforeseeable.

He had single-handedly created MI6 out of the need to collect data faster, as the world grew larger. But he had still needed a point man, someone that would receive the newest intelligence from around the world and be able to put it all together. To see the patterns. To be Britain’s brain.

Mycroft folded his newspaper and set it aside, and picked up an unassuming folder. There had been several candidates he had carefully watched over the last few decades, but they had in turn proven to be disappointments. Except for one.

He had met Sir Anthony Strallan quite by accident, actually, while visiting Eton over 20 years ago, looking in on a completely different young man as a possible protégé. Walking across the courtyard, he had observed the young man sitting on a side bench, watching a group of his fellow classmates talk and joke with each other. It was clear that the young man was watching the group as a whole, not simply individuals.

He did something he rarely ever did: he diverged from his plan of action and walked over to the bench.

“Might I sit down?” he asked politely. Blue eyes took him in curiously.

“Of course, sir, would you like me to leave?” Anthony responded with deference. It was clear the young man could tell Mycroft was no ordinary gentleman.

“No. I would like to know what you think about the group there,” he asked. Anthony looked at him thoughtfully, and then looked back at the group.

“They’re trying to determine if they can trust each other enough to start a cheating ring.” Anthony said simply.

“Quite. But how do you know that?” Mycroft prodded.

Anthony paused. “It’s hard to explain,” he began. Mycroft nodded for him to continue. “The way they laugh, almost rubbing elbows, talk about smoking, feeling out how far each of them will go. The dynamic of having more than three people helps make them comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. It’s… a cultural connection, that they’re using to manipulate each other into doing what they all really want to do, but no one’s willing to make the first move. Not yet, anyway.”

It was enough. Mycroft was actually excited for the first time in many years. But his next question was crucial. “And why are you here instead of telling the headmaster?”

Anthony looked at him squarely. “Two of them are the son’s of Dukes, one son of a Marquees, and two sons of Earls. The title of a Baronet would not stop me from being beaten nightly if I did so.” He looked back over to the group. “And frankly, one should never show one’s entire hand early in the game.”

“And yet, I am going to do just that. Would you like to come and work for me?” Mycroft asked bluntly.

Anthony looked back at him. “Yes, I think so,” he said. “But I have responsibilities. To my family, to my estate. And I am already engaged to be married.”

“I will work around those conditions,” Mycroft agreed. “Your father is dead, I presume?”

“Yes.” They both knew why Mycroft knew that: Anthony wouldn’t hold the Baronet title if his father was still living.

“Then there are fewer… complications. I will send you more details soon.” He stood. Anthony stood. Mycroft put out his hand.

“Mycroft Holmes.” Anthony took that in. Many things clicked into place. The brother of the famous detective. It made sense.

“Anthony Strallan.”

\----

He had sent Strallan to Oxford to read on Technology and Engineering, areas he himself lacked knowledge of. Anthony had married and started his life as a simple, well-educated baronet, who came off as rather dull for knowing three languages and many other things about farming and industrial equipment, and having traveled extensively. And he was considerably warmer than Mycroft.

It was a cover that Mycroft felt would work well, given the changing world. He had long been able to hide behind the façade of a “minor government official.” But that story wasn’t going to fly anymore in a world that was increasingly full of people that didn’t know how to mind their own business. Creating MI6 was a start. But having an insider that everyone thought was an outsider… Mycroft had struck gold.

When Maud died, Mycroft used the tragedy to Britain’s advantage, sending Strallan to faraway places under the guise of mourning his wife. Anthony accepted the assignments, and the need for deception; though he had loved Maud well, he knew danger loomed.

But Anthony missed Maud dreadfully. She was the only person he had fully shared his work with; she had an understanding of individuals that Anthony appreciated and learned from. His reports to Mycroft always benefitted from Maud’s insights. When Anthony had detected that Germany was building a submarine system, it was Maud that noted that the old Queen would not approve of such subterfuge. And she had been right, which had allowed Mycroft to craft a response that appeased Her Majesty and allowed the program to continue.

Shaking his head of the cobwebs of yesteryear, the now elderly Mycroft Holmes studied the contents of the folder in front of him. Lady Edith Crawley, middle daughter of the Earl of Grantham. Considered the brains of the family, according to his contacts, she was a great reader, and had borrowing privileges in libraries at many of the noble estates in Yorkshire.

Yet she was neglected by the family, being rather retiring in nature, and unconventional in looks. Mycroft approved. She would be an asset to Strallan, and to Britain. He gave no thought to what would have been done if she had proved to be unreliable, as Maud had been.

AN: I am using the canon of the current TV show Sherlock as established by the Christmas episode. And the submarine plot comes from the movie “The Seven-Per-Cent Solution” (1976). Hope that clarified things.


	3. Chapter 3

_One month later…._

He was cold. The basement he had been hiding in for a week was damp, and the cold had become a permanent part of him. He hadn’t had a hot meal since reaching the safe house. The spy business was not at _all_ glamorous.

Stewart, his butler at Angenehm, had insisted coming with him when he had left the estate and dismissed the servants. It had been a godsend that he had, as they were both able to move fairly easily from town to town as an aristocrat with impeccable papers and his manservant. Anthony realized now it would have been impossible to get as far as they had without Stewart, it would have seemed too suspicious for a Baron to be traveling without his valet. It was a wonder he hadn’t been caught coming into Germany, but this war had yet to have everyone at their guard.

But their luck had run out in Bonn, where he had spotted another of the aristocracy who was also quite far up in the German government. Von Strasselburg knew of Strallan’s affiliation with England. So they had had to abandon the idea of the train station, and instead had walked to the next contact on his list, who had luckily been willing to hide him and “hire on” a new butler until arrangements could be made.

The picture of Edith reminded him of what there was to return to. As he the cradled the picture in his hands, he thought about their courtship. He had married Maud because it was expected of him, and they were very fond of each other. She was clever, but reserved, funny, but quiet.

Edith, however, had enchanted him, more so as he grew to know her better. When she accepted him, he had been ecstatic that he had not left the party after Mary’s attempt to hurt her sister. The thought of touching her lips... and more… kept him warm.

It was time. Stewart opened the basement door, and handed him clothes more suitable to a peasant. “I apologize, my lord, but Lord Haugwitz has made plans for us to “ride the rails” as _landstreicher….”_

Anthony actually smiled. “I had always wanted to do so as a child,” he said, changing quickly in the cold. “As long as we can get to the Belgium front, I don’t care if we have to go as circus performers!” He sobered a bit as he held out a letter for Stewart to take.

“This _must_ reach my superiors. If anything happens to me, you must go to my estate in Yorkshire and call the number written here.”

Stewart took the letter carefully. His family had served the Strallan von Angenehm family for generations. His loyalty was to his lord, not to the foolish king who had sided with the arrogant Hapsburgs.

“Come, let us go,” Anthony said in German. Stewart knew not to speak English again until they were free.

 

_Three Months Later…._

Richard Stevens, solicitor to the Strallan family since he had taken over the practice from his father 40 years ago, stood stock still as he shut the door after his visitor. He had _heard_ of Mycroft Holmes, of course, everyone that had any business with Whithall did, eventually, but he had never thought to meet the man who was whispered to be “the shadow behind the thrown.”

But the war was creating desperate times. More men were volunteering daily. It did not look like there would be a quick ending to this conflict. No, this conflict would reshape the world. And that power of change was even to be felt in Yorkshire. And Major Strallan was playing a major role in that change. If he was still alive.

“Mr. Stevens, are you alright?” his young secretary asked. Stevens turned to her, and blinked. “Yes. Cancel all appointments for this week. I will be at the Strallan Estate in Yorkshire if you must reach me.”

“Are you leaving _now?_ ” she almost screeched. Stevens sighed. The young did not deal well with damage control.

“Yes. Send Johnny to my house. Tell him to tell Rodgers to pack lightly and meet me at the 11am train. And I need to send a telegram to Downton Abby in Yorkshire.”

Susan stared at him for a few seconds in shock. She broke out of her stupor with a hasty “Yes, sir!” and ran outside to find the messenger boy. The war was changing everything.

\---

Lady Edith read the telegram Carson handed to her at the breakfast table several times, her breath shallow. “Edith?” Lord Grantham asked. “What is it?”

“Anthony’s solicitor will be here later today. He says he needs to speak to me… about “provisions made on my behalf by Sir Anthony before taking his leave,” she choked out. She looked up at her father, tears in her eyes. “Papa, what does that mean? Is he –“

“No, I’m sure it doesn’t mean that,” Grantham said hastily. “Strallan’s a Major, the information of… a death… wouldn’t come through his solicitor.” He took a drink of coffee, thinking it through. “It has been some months, however. Anthony may have set something up in the eventuality of being away too long.”

That calmed her a bit. She finished her breakfast, went back to her room, and called for Anna. She changed into her most adult-looking dress, taking a page from Mary’s style sense. She wanted to come across as older and capable, but not frumpy. She had no idea what this Mr. Stevens would say, but she wanted to be ready for anything.

She waited in the drawing room patiently, playing the piano, reading. Finally, Carson announced the solicitor. Lord Grantham came in and shook the man’s hand as she stood.

“Lord Grantham, Lady Edith. It is a pleasure to meet you both,” he said staidly.

“Is it?” Edith’s voice wavered with emotion.

“Please allow me to explain,” he said. Robert directed him to a seat. “I have had communication with…” Here his paused, and lowered his voice, “Mycroft Holmes.”

Robert made a small noise of surprise. Edith looked between them, confused. “Holmes? The detective?”

“No, they were brothers. Sherlock Holmes died about ten years ago. Mycroft, however….” He was nearly wringing his hands with nervousness.

“I’ve heard of Mycroft Holmes,” Robert said. “Never spoken to him of course.”

“Well, who is he, then?” Edith asked, exasperation in her voice hiding the concern.

“’The shadow behind the thrown’, or so it’s said,” Robert replied, a bit awestruck. “In a way, he IS England. I knew Strallan was a government advisor, but I didn’t realize…”

“Quite.” Stevens replied. “I believe that’s why Holmes contacted me at all. Much better to do this through intermediaries.”

“DO WHAT!?” Edith almost shouted. She had had it. Both men looked at her, and blinked, bringing themselves back to the present.

“Major Strallan has been taken captive by German forces inside Belgium, according the Mr. Holmes,” Steven said. It was brutal. Edith cried out, “No!”, half standing in horror, while Robert steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Our people are in the process of locating him for a rescue mission, but the Germans keep moving him around. They are hoping to find him before they move him inside Germany, where it would be much harder to get at him.” Here he looked Lord Grantham in the eye. “I was told specifically by Mr. Holmes that Sir Anthony has information on spies operating in England. And I was told specifically to tell you this information.”

Robert nodded thoughtfully. “He can track how information flows from one person to another, maybe root out the traitor that way,” he said. Stevens nodded.

“But that is not my main concern. I am officially here as Sir Anthony’s solicitor. On the day he left, he left instructions, changing his will. Should he be incapacitated or missing, the control of Locksleigh falls completely to Lady Edith.”

Edith gasped. “I couldn’t possibly!” she said.

Robert looked at Stevens sharply. “Is that wise?” he asked. Stevens shrugged.

“Wise or not, it is what he wished. I have been informed that his butler from the German estate has arrived at the house, and someone must decide on his place. Other details of the estate are becoming problematic, as well, with no one to make decisions. Normally, I would have consulted his sister, Mrs. Chetworth, in London, but Sir Anthony’s instructions were very clear. Lady Edith is to be given full control of Locksleigh and all other business affairs until his return, as well as a personal salary of 700 pounds a month for the rest of her life. This salary is irregardless of marriage.”

Edith’s eyes grew large. She had never wanted for anything, but she had never had money to spend without asking her father. “Why would he do that?”

“If you like my opinion, Lady Edith, I believe Sir Anthony did not want you to feel obligated to marriage when he returns, and wished to make sure you were provided for if he were to die. In case of death, Locksleigh becomes yours.” He looked at her steadily, almost assessing her. “If I may say so, he is a very honorable man.”

Edith was almost panting. It was too much to take in. She focused on one aspect, looking at her Papa. “Will I need to live at Locksleigh?” she asked, trying to process the confusing emotions swirling within her.

“That would be my suggestion. I would think it difficult to make the decisions necessary without living there full time.” Stevens said.

Robert nodded. “It is not ideal, without a marriage done, but you are officially engaged. And this is war. Do something for the war effort with the estate, and I would think any gossip would be minimized.”

“A very good idea, Lord Grantham,” Stevens said as he stood. “Can I tell the staff to expect you tomorrow, Lady Edith? Say, 10 o’clock? There will be a bit of paperwork to sign.”

“Yes, I suppose that will work,” Edith said as confidently as she could muster. Lord Grantham rang for Carson. “Carson please show Mr. Stevens out and ask Lady Grantham, Lady Mary and Lady Sybil if they would come to the drawing room.”

Alone, Robert turned to his daughter. “I think the information about Strallan’s situation should remain between us,” he said to her quietly. “Britain has many enemies. We don’t want to make you a target.”

Edith nodded, almost unable to speak with the whirlwind in her mind. “But…” she added slowly, thinking it through, “He does love me, doesn’t he, Papa?”

“Yes,” Robert said simply. “I was a bit concerned at first, especially at his age, I’ll admit. But this does show his commitment to you. We’ll want people to know that.”

Cora and Mary come in. “What this about, Robert?” Robert looked back at his daughter.

Yes, the war was changing everything.


	4. Chapter 4

Mycroft Holmes shook his newspaper in agitated frustration, willing it to provide more information. It been over a year since he had sent Anthony Strallan to Germany, and the only information he had received about the man’s whereabouts in the meantime had been from Strallan’s German butler. It had confirmed what Strallan and he had postulated: there was a vast network of German sympathizers in the UK.

He had needed Strallan to go. As his hand-picked protégé to be the top officer in MI6, Strallan needed the field experience and the respect of those beneath him. The contacts he had cultivated over the years had to know that they could trust him. Once Strallan moved behind a desk permanently, those contacts would be invaluable.

But Strallan had only been able to come up with a few names before he was captured. And now the enemy was moving him from location to location in Germany. For what purpose? If they wanted him in Germany again, they simply would have flown him. Airplanes were still somewhat new to warfare, but extremely useful for moving precious cargo quickly.

Mycroft folded his newspaper and steepled his fingers in thought.

If they hadn’t already moved Strallan to Germany, it implied that they didn’t know who he was. It also implied he had not cracked, as information about strategy and many other things Strallan had been privy to at the beginning of the war had not yet been compromised.

But why continually move him around Belgium? Mycroft closed his eyes, picturing the locations he had been able to confirm Strallan had been held.

Was there a pattern to the locations?

Who was also at the locations?

While deep in thought, a footman brought him a telegram on a small silver platter. Mycroft blinked his eyes wearily. Not having enough data was exhausting.

He read the telegram, and then read it again. A supply tunnel had been targeted with shells. A very specific supply tunnel inside Belgium, one that his agents knew was abandoned. It was to be used in case one was being interrogated and were about to become compromised.

He picked up the phone, and began the process of tracking who in the German command gave the order for the assault. It would have to have been done quickly, if the information was accurate, therefore the location of the commander giving the order who most likely be the original location of the information source.

Strallan. They had found him. And they needed to get to him soon.

Mycroft would send orders for the nearest platoon to attempt a rescue as soon as they had a location. Mycroft regretted the loss of life, but there was no recourse. He sighed. There never was.

\-----

 

A year and a month. Lady Edith Crawley had been Lady Strallan in all but name for thirteen months. She could hardly remember what he life had been like before. She was busy from dawn ‘till dark, and usually hit her bed in Locksleigh exhausted. But it was an immensely satisfying life, though nothing like she imagined it would be to be the Lady of an estate.

She had jumped right into her role, making decisions about the running of the house and the estate based on all of the reading she had done, and still did, dedicating time after church on Sunday to educating herself on a particular topic, from husbandry to indoor plumbing. She had given the title of Estate Agent to Davis, Anthony’s English butler, as they both got on well and together found that they knowledge complimented each other’s. She had made Stewart, Anthony’s German butler, the new butler of Locksleigh. His slight German accent could have been a problem if he interacted with the public more.

The staff grew to respect her judgement, seeing that she made decisions based on the best information she had and how it could best serve Locksleigh. If they thought anything about the unusualness of having such an active lady of the house, they kept it to themselves.

Of course, it was not ideal. It simply wasn’t what Edith wanted, to have Anthony absent for so long with no knowledge of his whereabouts, or whether he was even still alive. But it still amazed Edith how different life could be when allowed to make decisions for oneself. When breakfast was to be served, if they should buy more pigs, or how to help the war effort.

Edith had early on taken her father’s advice, and asked him to contact the War Office about supplying food to soldiers. Locksleigh had been known for their pork productions for generations. All she had needed was a processing plant, which the government happily built her in York, and Locksleigh became the leading supplier for salt pork to Britain and allied forces throughout Europe. And she actually managed to make a small profit, keeping costs low enough to be able to put away some of the compensation that the government gave her for each pig. She hoped Anthony would be pleased.

But this afternoon she decided to give herself some time off. It was raining pretty heavily, so she decided on a little indoor exploration. Locksleigh was so much more inviting and interesting than Downton Abby, no matter its smaller size. There were nooks and odd doors leading to pantries with unused tablecloths and other household items. Downton might have more in expensive artwork (though the collection here was very interesting), but Locksleigh, for its lack of a lady for nearly a decade, definitely was more “lived in.”

Edith walked the main corridor. She had explored Anthony’s room only cursory, after the tour that Davis, Anthony’s butler-now estate agent, had given her in the beginning. She didn’t want the staff to think she was a tramp. She herself had taken the room next to Anthony’s. Not the connecting one, of course. That was Maud’s room.

She opened the connecting door from Anthony’s room. If she was going to poke around in Maud’s room, she rather the staff not see her. It was clearly a feminine room, decorated in delicate blue cornflowers, and though it obviously was cleaned regularly, it clearly had been preserved exactly as Maud had left it on the day she died. Other than the bed being made, the room looked as if its mistress had just stepped out a few minutes ago, her diary sitting on her writing desk, still open to the page she had been writing on days before her death.

Edith was reluctant to read Maud’s final thoughts. Maybe she would, after she become the official new mistress of Locksleigh. But for now, she left the diary as it was and offhandedly opened the desk drawer. And then stared at it, confusion making her eyebrows furrow.

The desk drawer was shallower on the inside than it should have been. The trick of the false bottom was easy to spot, if one was looking for such things. Edith pulled on the ribbon she found after searching with her hands in the drawer, and the “bottom” came up with ease.

Edith sat down, and pulled out sheet after sheet, all in German. She remembered Anthony telling her Maud was from an old Austrian family, whom his father had business dealings with. Edith read only a tiny bit of German, she had opted to study French more closely when given a choice in her education. But she knew Anthony’s library had a German-English dictionary.

Edith took the sheets of writing to the library and sat for hours, translating. Stewart had asked her if dinner was to be served, and she shook her head negatively, asking only for some cheese and fruit. She translated long into the night.

They were all letters from contacts back home, asking for more details on Anthony’s work in Intelligence. Clearly Anthony had confided in Maud about topics that he was working on, and even more clearly he did not know that she was passing on the information, form the condescending way Anthony was spoken of in the letters.

Edith stretched in her chair. She was nearly through translating all of the correspondence, but the conclusion was undeniable.

Maud had been a traitor.


End file.
